


Dropping a Conversational Bomb

by shrift



Category: due South
Genre: Bisexuality, Community: lgbtfest, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-05-12
Updated: 2008-05-12
Packaged: 2017-10-02 02:24:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shrift/pseuds/shrift
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Fraser needs a favor.  Dubious Ray is dubious."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dropping a Conversational Bomb

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the LGBT Fest prompt: _295\. Due South: Ray Kowalski. A hate-crime investigation leads Ray to tell Fraser about when he was the victim of prejudice/violence._
> 
> Beta by Nestra.

It took Ray a while to figure out that Fraser was angling for a favor. Fraser asked for favors all the time, only he didn't actually _ask_ very often, he just pointed out some injustice and then looked at Ray like Fraser knew he'd do the honorable thing. And Ray did the honorable thing most of the time because he was whipped like that, and maybe because he'd always done it, even before Fraser came along with a smile that would make Ray give up the last smoke in a pack. If Ray still smoked, and Fraser needed it to, like, defuse a bomb or something.

Also, when Fraser asked for a favor, he usually said, "Ray, my very good friend, may I ask you for a favor?"

It was when Fraser went at things sideways that Ray worried.

"Are you otherwise engaged this evening?" Fraser asked.

"Huh? What's that supposed to mean?" Ray demanded, because sometimes his mouth moved too fast for his brain.

"Ah, that is, I mean to say..." Fraser said. He paused and tilted his head and did this pursing thing with his lips that should've looked stupid, but never did. Fraser's eyes darted toward the back seat before focusing on Ray again.

Ray shrugged. "Nah, I don't got any plans."

"Ah," Fraser said, visibly relieved.

"You?" Ray asked, and Fraser changed the subject by pointing out a purse-snatcher and then leaping from Ray's still-moving car. "Damn it, Fraser!"

Ray braked so hard his tires squawked. He yanked it into park and turned off the engine, snatching the keys from the ignition as he followed Fraser's bright red back down the narrow alley.

They caught the thief, read him his rights, and took him back to the station before Fraser started in on Ray again.

"Ray, I was wondering if I could trouble you to provide me with transportation this evening."

"You want me to drive you somewhere?" Ray asked. Walking down the hallway, he dodged one of the civilian aides and a hulk in handcuffs, and then bumped Fraser's arm with his shoulder.

Fraser opened his mouth and paused, taking a deep breath and then licking his lower lip. It was totally a tell, and what it was telling Ray was that Fraser was about to be less than straight with him about what he was asking Ray to get himself into.

"Well, Ray," Fraser said.

"Yeah, Fraser?"

"It's a little bit more than a ride, actually," Fraser said.

Ray tossed a file onto his desk and crossed his arms. "So what are we talking about here?"

Fraser lifted his chin and put his hands behind his back. "A young man called the Consulate last night to report a crime --"

Ray recognized the storytelling tone and waved his hands in Fraser's face. "Cut to the chase."

"He was harassed leaving an establishment," Fraser said, his eyes going squinty with irritation. "He indicated that he had reason to believe the harassment would have escalated to a violent altercation had they not been interrupted by a passing group of tourists. Now, I took the liberty of doing some research --"

"When did you find time to do that?" Ray asked, because Fraser had been with him all day, give or take five minutes at lunch when Ray'd gone to the bathroom.

"Oh, that's not pertinent to the discussion, Ray, but I did discover that there have been five reports recently of similar harassment in the environs, and as you know, such incidents are often underreported."

Ray felt a headache coming on. "Yeah, okay, whatever. What time you wanna do this thing?"

Fraser beamed at him.

Fuck defusing bombs. Fraser's smile was a bomb that constantly blew up inside Ray's chest.

It was okay, though. It was pretty messy in there to begin with.

* * *

"So where we going?" Ray asked as he stopped for the red light.

Fraser cleared his throat. "Ah, if you'll continue straight through the intersection, please."

"Yeah, okay," Ray said, and gunned it when the light turned. Fraser's hand shot out to steady his Stetson on the dashboard. Fraser kept making "go straight" hand signals at Ray, so he kept heading toward the lake until he hit Outer Drive. Fraser told him to exit at Belmont, then had Ray take a bunch of residential streets in Lakeview pretty much at random. When Ray finally noticed that they were slowly drifting north to Wrigleyville, he kinda twigged to the situation.

"Fraser, are we going to Boystown?"

Fraser stared at him warily.

"What? _What_?" Ray demanded.

"Given your reaction to some of my word-association queries regarding closets, I didn't consider it prudent to inform you of our destination ahead of time," Fraser said.

Ray yanked the wheel and pulled over in a no-parking zone so he could get in Fraser's face. "I am not a homophobe."

Fraser nodded. "Duly noted."

"I am not that guy," Ray said, poking Fraser in the chest. "I am not that cop. I do not do that. Don't you dare think that."

"Of course not, Ray," Fraser said. He was being all... placating, or whatever the word was for how you sounded when you talked to crazy irrational people with tin foil on their heads.

Ray sank back into the driver's seat and rubbed his temples with his thumbs. "It's just complicated."

Fraser just made a wordless humming noise. Ray suddenly felt tired and maybe a little guilty in the hollow of his stomach. Fraser knew a lot of stuff because he was kind of ridiculously observant, but there were some things the guy couldn't know unless Ray told him. And since Ray had been telling Fraser all kinds of intimate stuff since the day they met, blaming Fraser for getting the wrong idea on this one would just be sucky.

Ray was plenty sucky on accident, so he tried not to do it on purpose too much.

"So your guy," Ray said, carefully steering back into the flow of traffic. "I take it some guys took it a little too personal that he was leaving a gay bar."

Quietly, Fraser said, "If you'd rather not participate in a stakeout this evening, I'm certainly capable of fending for myself."

"Hate crime's still a crime," Ray snapped.

"As you say."

"I do say," Ray said. "So, you gonna tell me where we're going, or do I have to drive up and down Halsted all night?"

After a moment, Fraser said, "Take a right at the next intersection."

"Yeah, okay," Ray said. He even used his turn signal.

Ray parked in an alley across from a building with a rainbow painted on the garage. The club was next door. Ray could hear the pounding beat of the house music anytime someone opened the door. It made him think of nights he'd danced until sweat dripped off the end of his nose. Made him wonder how things had changed since the last time he'd done anything like that. Getting old was weird.

They sat there in silence for a good fifteen minutes before Fraser cleared his throat and said, "I want to thank you for doing this."

Ray shrugged. Another five minutes passed. Ray finally said, "Sorry. For flipping my nut back there."

"You did react rather strongly," Fraser said.

"It's complicated," Ray said.

"Yes, you mentioned that."

Ray took a deep breath and then let it out in one big whoosh. "Thing is, Chicago's a small town."

"I'd beg to differ, Ray --"

"No, I mean," Ray said, making a frustrated noise. "It's a huge city, but, like, socially, it's small. You see people you know on the bus. You run into people when you go out to eat, when you go to Carson's. Everybody knows somebody who knows somebody else who sits next to your Ma in church."

"All right," Fraser said, although he clearly had no idea where Ray was going with this. Ray wasn't sure he knew, either.

"So if one person knows something about you -- maybe he does, maybe he doesn't, doesn't matter if it's true -- but if one guy thinks he knows, then everybody knows. You know?"

Fraser eyed him. "I'm not sure that I follow."

"I'm bi," Ray said, just sort of put it out there, one of those uncomfortable truths that sit for a while and eventually expand all over the place like a spongy inflatable bath toy.

"Ray," Fraser said, and then he was out of the car and sprinting across the busy street. Ray could feel the _boom-boom-boom_ stop as the club door swung shut behind two skinny club kids holding hands. He struggled out of his seatbelt and out of the car, taking off Fraser and shouting, "Chicago PD!" just as the bad guys started to close in.

* * *

Ray kicked a few heads, Fraser lectured some guys who deserved worse, and they finally sent the scared boys from the club home with Ray's cell number scrawled on a ketchup-stained McDonald's bag in case they ever needed help. Ray just hoped they'd actually call and not throw his number away thinking he was cruising for a twink or something.

Ray jerked his thumb at his car. "Can I drop you somewhere?"

"If you'd take me back to the Consulate, I'd be much obliged," Fraser said. "No doubt Diefenbaker is ready for his evening stroll."

"Yeah, okay, get in," Ray said.

They got in the car. Ray started the engine and pulled out of the alley. Out of the corner of his eye, Ray saw Fraser lick the blunt edges of his teeth and then crack his neck.

"Ray," he said.

"I don't wanna talk about it," Ray said.

"Well, that's too bad. I was hoping we might resume our previous conversation," Fraser said seriously. "I regret the interruption."

Ray shrugged. "Whatever."

"I just want you to know that I'd be honored to listen to anything you wish to share with me," Fraser said, and he was so goddamn sincere about it that Ray's teeth ached.

His voice shook when he finally spoke. "Nobody knew."

Fraser made an encouraging noise.

"At least, that's what I thought. Nobody knew. I'm not out there, you know, whatever. But after me and Stella split, I wasn't as careful as I should've been once or twice. It was dumb, but my head wasn't on right. Then some guys from my old neighborhood remembered how they used to think I was queer, and suddenly I gotta keep my eyes to myself in the locker room just so nobody starts something, some guys are making kissy-faces at me in the hallway, some other guys are telling me I'd better watch my back, or else. And I kind of suck at playing nice, so."

Fraser was silent. He reached out and squeezed Ray's shoulder, and Ray's breath rushed out of his chest in relief. He felt like Fraser had just defused a bomb with three seconds to go.

"When they offered me this undercover job, it was like a second chance," Ray said. "Start over, start fresh. Be less stupid."

"This guy," Ray's old Lieu had said, sticking his big, ink-stained thumb on top of Vecchio's closed file, "does not take it up the ass, Detective. Am I clear?" Back then, he'd just rolled his eyes and stuck another wad of nicotine gum in his mouth, and said something shitheaded like, "Fabulous, sir."

Lieutenant Sheehan hadn't seemed to care one way or another about Ray's sex life so long as it didn't affect his work, and when it had started affecting his work, Lieu had given him a way out. Ray hadn't really appreciated it at the time. Maybe he should send a thank-you card or something. He'd send a cake, but Ray was pretty sure Lieutenant Sheehan's wife would find him and gut him for aiding and abetting a diabetic, undercover job or no.

"While I'm not wild about the circumstances that led you to this assignment, Ray, I must admit that I'm pleased as punch to have you as my partner and my friend."

"You like punch?"

Fraser nodded. "Oh, yes. I love punch. It was a special treat growing up in the Northwest Territories. Fruit juices were something of a rarity."

Ray snorted. "Fruit. Yeah."

"Ray," Fraser said. "I hope I haven't given you cause to believe that you couldn't be yourself around me."

"What? No."

"I want to apologize for my erroneous assumptions. They were made with no malice aforethought, but that does not excuse my actions."

"Fraser!" He banged his hands on the steering wheel for emphasis, and Fraser finally shut his trap. "You're good. You're fine. You're great."

Fraser patted Ray's shoulder awkwardly. "I'm pleased that you think so, Ray."

Ray pulled over and said, "Get out."

Fraser gaped. "Pardon?"

"We're here," Ray said, jerking his head at the Consulate. "Dief's probably at the door with his furry legs crossed."

"Ah." Fraser reached for the door handle. "Thank you for driving."

"Night, Fraser."

Fraser collected his hat and got out of the car, ducking his head back down after a moment to ask, "Are you all right, Ray?"

Fraser's eyes were blue and his mouth was pink and his hair was dark and shiny, and he was Ray's friend and partner and he wasn't allowed to hit that, mess that up. Ray thought that he was probably pretty screwed and not all right at all, but he was better than he was two hours ago, two weeks ago, or two months ago, so he just smiled and said, "See you tomorrow, Fraser."


End file.
